The poem above is the product of several drafts which Wallace has been kind enough to share with us on her blog. You can read about how the first of these Sausage poems became the second and led to the third at Grilling Poetry.

About the Poet:

Gillian Wallace, (b. 1958), is a Canadian poet. Having earned her BA in music (performance) at the University of Western Ontario, she went on to do graduate work (MA Toronto, PhD Ottawa) in the psychology of religion, writing her thesis on original sin. She has worked as an editor and copyeditor.

Her poems have been published in various journals including Descant, The Antigonish Review, Room, and This Magazine. In 2009, she won Arc Poetry Magazine’s Diana Brebner Prize and in 2010, she was named a Hot Ottawa Voice by Ottawa’s Tree Reading Series. She is currently putting together the manuscript for her first poetry collection while also continuing to work on novels, polishing her first one to be publisher ready (learner ones lie buried in a drawer) and editing the first draft of another one. [DES-08/14]

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Comment

Name *

Email *

Website

Primary Sidebar

Search for:

The actual lines of a pig (I mean a really fat pig) are among the loveliest and most luxuriant in nature; the pig has the same great curves, swift and yet heavy, which we see in rushing water or in a rolling cloud.